Skin Deep
by SomebodyAlreadyHasThatUserName
Summary: She didn't call him by his name. After all, humans never did that with their livestock.


Skin Deep

Emma didn't look out the window. Instead, she ran her fingers through her white-blonde hair, and walked in neat little circles on the carpet. She could already feel her nails grow sharper, and her ears took in the house's every creak and snap. But the loudest noise was the sniffling in the corner.

"Please," a voice croaked.

She looked out of the corner of her eye. The young man sat against the wall, head lolling to the side and legs splayed out. His thin wrists were chained to the fireplace, and his blue eyes were the only thing that stood out from his hollow face.

"Don't do this," he begged. "Please."

"I need to," Emma answered. She looked down at her manicured toes. "You have no idea what it's like. If we don't eat, we don't keep this form." She turned and gestured to her hour-glass figure.

The boy snorted. "So you have a _body image problem?_"

Emma looked around at the living room. It was made of rich teak wood floors and pastel blue walls. She reached up and touched the bone-white chandelier, which glowed softly in the dark.

"You thought I was the prettiest girl in school," she said, almost addressing him by his name. She turned so he could see her face. "Would you rather see me like _this?_"

The last word ended in a hiss. Her shoulders broadened, and her skin hardened into thick green scales. Her teeth grew longer, and felt sharper than she cared to remember. The change continued, until the boy's fearful white face told her she had done enough.

"My family is coming," Emma told him in a terrible voice. "They all look just like me, and they are _hungry_."

The boy shut his eyes and turned away, but he shook terribly. Emma took in a deep breath, and melted back into the form of a girl, smooth as silk.

"Don't you see?" she said. "Before, we were crawling through the swamps and trying desperately to survive. We almost _died_. Now, we walk among you in peace. We only eat twice a year, and no more. It's a small price to pay for something so dear."

The boy picked up his head and looked at her again. "So you eat humans to _become_ human?"

Now it was Emma's turn to go pale, and she didn't meet his eyes. "I shouldn't be talking to you in the first place. Everyone will come home, soon."

"But you know me," the boy said, "and I know you." He cocked his head to the side. "I'll admit that I never talked to any chickens before I ate them, but then again, they never talked to _me_."

"What are you saying?" said Emma crossly. "That you're a chicken?"

"No. It's just that _we're_ talking," the boy said, as he shifted in his chains. "Doesn't that make a difference? At all?"

She made no reply, and turned towards the window.

"Emma…please."

"That's not my name," she said coldly. "Don't call me that."

The boy struggled in his chains. "Emma," he begged again. "Please, don't be – "

"_That is not my name!_" she screamed, whirling around. She seized a fire poker from nearby and rushed upon him, ready to stab. He didn't cower, or try to hit her, but just sat there, those blue eyes angry and sad at once.

"It's what I've known you as," he said to her. "You'll always be Emma. I can't say I like you too much, right now, but I'll say goodbye to you."

Her family's warning from yesterday struck her thoughts: _If the prey escapes, you won't._ She clenched her fists, and felt her nails bite the soft flesh of her palm.

There were only two kind creatures who ate humans, she knew; animals and humans themselves. Her hands felt wet; she saw bright red blood leaking from beneath her fingers.

She wasn't an animal.

An engine's roar caught her attention. She looked up to see her father's black sedan roll down the street. The boy saw it as well, and closed his eyes.

Emma looked back at him. "Don't say goodbye," she said, struggling. "Just run."

The boy barely had time to think. "What?"

"Go!" She seized the chains and broke them from the wall. "The back door is unlocked. I'll keep them occupied. Just run!"

The boy staggered to his feet. "I –"

"Goodbye, Nathan," Emma said. "Goodbye."

He stared at her. "Goodbye, then. I'll see you again." And he disappeared through the kitchen doorway. As quick as light.

The front door rattled, before opening. Emma closed her eyes and smiled to herself, broken chain in hand.

"No, you won't," she whispered.


End file.
